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Hold Me Tight

Page 11

by Lorie Ann Grover


  “You don’t have to wear it

  all the time,” says Mom.

  “Dale, I can’t see your shoes.”

  Doozerdude shoves a foot

  under the dressing room door.

  “Let me see,” he says

  shoving his big head under.

  “Mom!” I shriek, and I grab my shirt.

  “Enough, Dale.

  And Estele, calm down.”

  He’s laughing out there.

  I know it.

  I sniff,

  turn my back to Mom,

  and rip off

  the stupid bra.

  It was strangling me

  anyway.

  Leaving the Mall

  She bought me

  two sports bras.

  And two flappy ones

  for herself.

  It’s kinda cool

  to need a bra,

  but I don’t like her

  telling me

  I have to wear it.

  “Quit bumping the seat,

  Dale!”

  He stops.

  At least Mom

  gave me the front seat.

  I deserve it

  after all that ickorama.

  Partying It Up

  The ball in New York City

  drops on TV.

  I wipe the last bit of salsa

  out of the bowl

  and lick my finger.

  It’s midnight,

  but Dale is asleep

  against Mom,

  who is fast asleep too.

  “Happy

  New

  Year,”

  I whisper

  to myself.

  Captains

  A Star Trek marathon starts.

  I wonder if Wally’s watching?

  There’s Captain Kirk

  in his too tight pants

  kissing some woman.

  Seems like that guy

  does that a lot.

  The break at the commercial

  advertises The Next Generation

  coming on later.

  Captain Picard is so much cooler

  with his baldy head,

  his Earl Grey tea,

  and his “Make it so.”

  He takes care of everything

  and everyone just right,

  without kissing all the women.

  He’d be a great dad

  for me.

  New Calendar

  I put our dishes in the sink.

  Huh.

  Mom hung the new calendar

  on top of the old one.

  I flip way back behind the new.

  There’s the black Dad square

  and, one page back,

  Chris’s spiral.

  Everything still feels hooked to those days.

  Maybe that’s why she left it up.

  Who knows, since she never said anything

  about my scribbles.

  I drop the pages and pat them.

  I’m glad the squares are still there.

  We need to remember

  when.

  The 28th Starred

  Why is the 28th of January

  starred?

  What is that for?

  Oh, yeah,

  the due date, I bet.

  Gulp.

  That’s the date

  the baby’s supposed to come.

  Oh, man.

  Twenty-eight days.

  Nothing More

  Dad hasn’t called.

  Not even to talk to Mom.

  Huh.

  I guess there’s

  nothing

  more to say.

  Who Knows?

  It didn’t feel so bad

  when I found out

  the church knew

  about Dad leaving.

  It was embarrassing.

  But the Lyons still like us.

  They still care.

  And the casserole ladies, too.

  It’s not like

  we stink

  because Dad left.

  It’s more like they agree

  with us.

  We are worth keeping as friends.

  Would Wally think so too?

  New Year’s Morning

  I make my way

  out of my room

  wrapped in my bedspread.

  Mom’s cranking down

  all the windows.

  “Brrrr. This is a surprise cold snap.

  Give me a hand, Estele.” she says.

  I do, and we get the house closed up.

  “Those poor orange growers.”

  She rubs her back.

  “They were on the news this morning

  trying to warm up their groves

  to protect the fruit.”

  “Wow.” I shiver.

  “How about some hot chocolate for you?”

  “Sure.”

  She mixes some chocolate powder and milk.

  I huddle up at the table

  as she heats the drink in the microwave.

  “Any news on Chris, Mom?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Where’s Doozerdude?”

  “Outside, bundled up and

  watching his breath.

  He’s praying for snow.”

  “You mean a miracle.”

  “Right.”

  What About Chris?

  It heats up a bit

  in the day,

  but the temperature zooms down

  when the sun sets.

  The orange growers

  make the news again.

  What about Chris,

  maybe freezing somewhere?

  The police better be looking

  extra hard tonight.

  Dale’s singing

  in his hot bath.

  I pull our one afghan,

  which we use for couch decoration,

  around my shoulders.

  We can survive without air-conditioning.

  But we need to have heat.

  Mom finally hauls out

  a little old electric heater.

  Bzzzzzzz,

  it torques up.

  Mom and I kneel close to it

  like we are praying.

  Nobody Better Notice

  I tug the bra down

  when Mom isn’t looking

  in the rearview mirror.

  Nobody better notice

  the lumpy straps.

  Coming down the hall

  before breakfast,

  I was putting on my sweater.

  Mom whispered that

  I was showing a little

  and needed a bra.

  In case I wanted to take off

  my sweater in class.

  I scratch under the tight elastic.

  At least my sweater

  covers most of the bra lines.

  Doozerdude didn’t

  say anything about it.

  Maybe Mom threatened him

  or something.

  Man, it’s even colder today.

  I button my sweater

  to the tippy-top

  and sit on my freezing hands.

  Weird

  It smells funny.

  Whenever we come back

  after a long vacation,

  the classroom smells weird

  and feels weird.

  Ms. Dryden’s new haircut

  is different.

  She looks fluffier.

  She puts Scurvy

  back up on his shelf.

  I slide into my seat,

  feeling prickly.

  “Hey!” everyone shouts

  to each other.

  They are bumping

  in their big sweaters

  and coats.

  I try to smile

  when they go by.

  But my stomach is flipping

  from the closed-up, empty smell.

  We need to get

  some pencil sharpening,


  some paint,

  and even some recess sweat

  in here

  to get this room right.

  A Miracle

  The temperature drops to thirty-two degrees,

  and tiny snowflakes drift down and melt.

  “It’s snowing!

  Hurry, class!”

  Ms. Dryden rushes us

  outside.

  We dance and shout,

  “It’s snowing in Miami!”

  It’s gorgeous!

  I bump into Wally

  and say with a big smile on my face,

  “This is my first time seeing snow.”

  “Me too!”

  “My dad left us,” I add fast.

  Wally and I stand still

  while the little flakes

  touch our cheeks.

  “If it’s snowing in Florida,” he says,

  “anything can happen.

  Maybe he’ll come back.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Maybe you’ll still be my friend.

  Wally smiles.

  Maybe so!

  I catch a tiny flake

  on my tongue.

  But it disappears.

  Passing Notes

  Do you still like me?

  Pass.

  Why wouldn’t I?

  Pass.

  Since my dad left …

  Pass.

  What does your dad being

  a nutsoid

  have to do with you?

  Pass.

  I don’t know. But

  do you still like me?

  Pass.

  Essie, you are my BEST FRIEND.

  Pass.

  I tuck the note

  deep

  into my back pocket.

  Lunch

  There’s so much good stuff that

  my brown bag is bulging.

  I eat a yogurt,

  a ham sandwich,

  chips,

  and even a couple of cookies.

  I sip my juice box empty.

  Didn’t even want a stupid old milk

  today.

  Library Time

  Wally and I squat

  in the sci-fi section.

  No one else in class

  usually comes over

  to this corner.

  He and I have read almost everything here,

  but it’s always good to check.

  There could be something new.

  I run my finger over the spines.

  Nope.

  “So when did he leave, Es?” Wally asks.

  I sit down on the floor.

  “Over a month ago.”

  “Wow.”

  I nod.

  “Do you know, like,

  where he went,

  or have you seen him?”

  “He hasn’t told us.

  We’ve seen him once.”

  “‘Unconscionable,’ my dad would say.”

  Yeah, that sounds like it could be right.

  Wally leans against the stacks.

  “Your parents seemed so cool together.”

  I lower my head to my knees.

  “Do you guys have enough money, Es?”

  “Yeah,” I say

  and wait for the tears

  to stop plopping on the rug.

  Wally nudges my shoulder.

  “Jarin!” He jumps up.

  “There’s a book I want to show you.

  Come here.”

  “What is it?”

  she asks.

  They move out of earshot.

  He did that

  so I can get it together.

  Man. Wally’s the best.

  Did You?

  Wally and I come up behind Dale.

  He whirls around.

  ”Did you see the snow, Es?”

  Before I can answer,

  Mom drives up.

  ”Did you see the snow, Mom?” he yells.

  She nods behind the windshield.

  ”It was me that prayed for it!” he announces

  to the whole school.

  No Doubt

  Dale and I climb into the car.

  Mom leans out the window.

  ”Hi, Wally.”

  ”Hi, Mrs. Sherman.”

  ”You sure have grown

  to be a handsome young man,”

  she tells him.

  ”Mom!” I whine.

  Wally shrugs and waves

  as we pull away.

  ”What a nice boy,” she says.

  Yup.

  Internet News

  Mr. Paul stops by

  with an article he printed

  off the Internet.

  I read out loud

  next to him over Mom’s shoulder:

  ”Hunter finds a child’s bloody T-shirt in the

  Everglades. The shirt is believed to belong to miss-

  ing boy Chris Crow. A single set of small footprints

  indicates the child was alone.”

  What?

  ”What does that mean?” Dale asks.

  ”Was that Chris’s shirt?

  What made it bloody?”

  Dale runs around the room yelling,

  ”They found Chris’s bloody shirt!”

  What does

  that mean?

  Confused

  It was bloody.

  Chris was bleeding

  somewhere

  in the glades

  with the gators.

  How can this happen?

  Kids are supposed to be in class,

  or in their homes,

  or playing ball,

  not bloody and alone

  in the Everglades.

  I Am

  ”Are you okay, Estele?” Mom asks.

  I nod.

  She rubs warmth

  into my arms.

  ”It’s a good sign

  they saw his footprints.

  Think about that.”

  ”Yeah. Chris was up

  and walking around.”

  ”Exactly,” says Mom.

  ”Let’s be encouraged

  and keep praying.”

  ”Your mother’s right,”

  Mr. Paul butts in.

  ”I am praying, Mom,” I say to her.

  Really.

  The Glades

  Oh, God,

  do you see Chris

  in the Everglades?

  Please don’t let

  the gators see him.

  Stayed

  Mr. Paul stayed for dinner again.

  And he did seem

  kind of nice.

  Worried about Chris.

  Asking about school

  and the snow.

  Maybe he is an okay friend

  for Mom.

  She thinks his jewel-cutting job

  is neat.

  I guess it is.

  Working on diamonds and stuff

  all day.

  She seems a whole lot happier

  when he’s around.

  Maybe I’ll try harder to be nice

  next time.

  Not One Breeze

  The cold front’s gone

  in hours.

  The oranges are safe now,

  if they weren’t damaged earlier.

  How can it get hot again

  so fast?

  Mom says

  we all are going to get sick

  with a snap that quick.

  I flip my pillow

  to the other side.

  Ahhh. It’s cool.

  But not for long.

  I’m sweating.

  I flip my pillow again,

  but it’s still warm.

  Warm and damp

  like the Everglades.

  God, help Chris,

  but I truly pray

  Dad doesn’t have air-conditioning

  either.

  Dodgeball

  I hate this stupid PE game.


  Duck.

  Jump.

  Everyone laughing at me.

  Pummeling balls.

  Lean.

  Dive.

  Fall

  and

  scrape my knee

  on the asphalt court.

  Bam.

  The red rubber ball

  bangs into my behind.

  ”Score!” yells Jarin.

  I limp out of the circle

  and tug up the bottom of my jeans.

  The skin’s all furry but not bleeding.

  No one checks to make sure I’m okay.

  Not even Coach Skytema.

  He’s busy tossing more balls in.

  Everyone’s trying to bean Jarin.

  At least she has to have a turn

  in the middle.

  But they sure don’t throw it as hard

  at her.

  Except maybe Wally.

  He wipes her ankles out from under her

  with a killer throw.

  Jarin hits the ground.

  Wally winks at me,

  I give him a thumbs-up.

  A Date

  ”We’ll be back in, say,

  an hour or so.”

  Mom pulls her purse

  up onto her shoulder.

  Mr. Paul smiles.

  ”Old enough to baby-sit now, Estele?”

  I nod.

  ”That’s pretty grown-up,

  if you ask me.

  Baby-sitting on a Friday night.”

  I try to smile.

  Mom gives me a kiss

  on the cheek.

  ”Coffee shop number is by the phone,

  sweetheart.

  Keep an eye on your brother.”

  She goes out the door.

  ”We’ll be back soon.”

  Mr. Paul squeezes my shoulder.

  His hand stays there.

  I duck out from under it.

  ”Bye.”

  I lock the door

  behind them.

  Maybe

  Mr. Paul

  could end up being Mom’s labor coach.

  Maybe she picked him.

  I bet that’s why they’re going out.

  We’ve known him forever.

  I even remember him visiting

  when I was little.

  Once I hugged his knees,

  thinking he was Dad.

  I was so embarrassed,

  I wouldn’t come

  out of my room

  the rest of the night.

  I hope he doesn’t remember that.

  His shoes were exactly like Dad’s.

  And he did

  hug me back.

  A New Dad?

  Would Mom

  ever want to marry

  Mr. Paul?

  We wouldn’t call him ”Mr.”

  anymore.

  Or ”Paul,” even.

  ”Dad?”

  No way

  I could ever call him ”Dad.”

  He’d be Mom’s husband maybe,

  but not

  my dad.

  Gross!

  A New Son?

  Would the Crows

  get a new son

  if Chris never came back?

  No way!

  One person

  can’t take the spot

  of another.

  Well, maybe the spot,

  but not the persony part.

  No one else

  could ever be Chris.

  Like no one else

  could ever be Dad.

  But maybe someone could fill

 

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